


Hotel Horror

by LenoraLana



Category: Emergency
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22906099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenoraLana/pseuds/LenoraLana
Summary: This was just an odd story I co-authored with my friend, HK47FAN, a long time ago. Johnny stays at a hotel and very, very strange things start to happen...
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

John Gage was dog tired, and that was putting it mildly. He yawned so hard that his jaw cracked slightly, and he felt a mild overload due to the sudden intake of extra oxygen. Truth was, he hadn't gotten any sleep for almost a full 24 hours.

"I knew I should have taken a nap before I left," he mumbled to himself as he stifled another yawn. He'd been on the road in his car ever since his last shift at the fire station ended. Now his two-week vacation had started.

Roy and his family were going camping, and Johnny had wished them the best of luck before they each left the station. John himself was going out of state to visit an old friend of his, someone he hadn't seen for years—and childhood friend who was going through a personal crisis.

John had been in such a rush to get there that he'd spent hours driving, without any sleep and barely even stopping. He'd almost gotten himself a speeding ticket one time, though thankfully the cop hadn't seen him. But now he was just plain bushed. He had to stop and get a few hours of sleep, or he was going to fall asleep at the wheel.

He walked into the hotel and stopped at the front office. He checked into one of the rooms, handed over some cash, and received his key. Then he headed down the hallway to get into the elevator to get into his room. He just wanted to go crash into the bed.

It was very early in the morning, almost 6:00, and so he was fully aware that the cleaning staff probably hadn't had a chance to straighten out all of the rooms yet. This was evident because there were a few people busy cleaning the floors and going in and out of the rooms, changing the linens.

However, Johnny did not care at this point if he had to sleep on an unmade bed or not. He'd be perfectly content to sleep on a mattress on the floor, he was so tired. I wouldn't mind sharing a bed with a dead person right now, he thought as he permitted himself another yawn. In spite of himself, he smirked slightly at the thought.

He arrived at his room, then double-checked the number. The last thing he needed was to absent-mindedly go into the wrong room in his tiredness. Once he confirmed he was at the right room, he stuck the key into the door and opened it, going inside.

Barely giving the room more than a quick glance, he went directly over to the bed and collapsed on it. He allowed his head to sink into the pillow, and he took a moment to get comfortable. However, he soon noticed that he seemed to be lying on something.

Groaning softly, he shifted his position to try and figure out what it was. It felt like a solid lump underneath him. As he sleepily groped around, trying to determine what it was by touch, he also tried to see if he would be able to move it aside or pull it out from under him without having to move much. He just wanted to sleep, and this little annoyance was keeping him from his beauty rest.

Suddenly, what he was feeling began to register in his brain. First, it felt like cloth. Then when he groped further, he realized that it felt like skin. As in, textured, smooth, human skin. He was lying on top of someone!

Gasping softly, Johnny instantly sat up and swung his legs over the bed, stumbling as he quickly got off of it. He then knelt down beside the bed, embarrassed and shocked. Had he wandered into the wrong room by accident?

Then the paramedic side of Johnny kicked in, and he quickly grew concerned. This man had just let John lay down on top of him for at least a minute, and allowed him to paw his clothing and possibly his back or shoulder, and he hadn't even stirred? John frowned, then examined the scene before him with a more careful eye.

The bed itself was pretty unkempt; the pillows were fairly neat, although they had the look of pillows that had been slept on. The sheets were wrinkled and askew, plus the blankets were twisted and hanging off of the edge of the bed. Evidently, this person had tossed and turned a lot prior to Johnny coming in. But now, the man was lying lifelessly on the bed.

Johnny knew better than to try and move the person before examining him for injury. He was currently lying on his stomach, one arm draped over the edge of the bed while the other lay close to his side. His legs were out straight. His face was pressed against the mattress, his head laying sideways. His eyes were closed, and there were signs of cold, dried sweat on his forehead.

"Hey, can you hear me?" the off-duty paramedic asked the man gently, already reaching over and trying to feel for a pulse. He checked the man's wrist; nothing. This was the first time that Johnny noticed how cold and clammy his skin felt.

"Oh dear God," Johnny breathed when he thought about it. This person wasn't dead, was he? He couldn't be dead. Johnny gently rolled the man over onto his back, feeling for his pulse again, then he reached up and pressed his fingers against the man's neck, trying to feel for a pulse there. Nothing. And the eyes, when he opened them to look at them, were completely non-responsive as well.

"Dead God, no," Gage whispered, shaking his head. He had completely forgotten his tiredness by now, although the lack of sleep was still causing him to move slower than usual.

He stumbled away from the bed, swung the door open and went out into the hallway. He then called out to the first person he saw. "Excuse me!"

A cleaning lady glanced up from what she was doing, looking annoyed at being interrupted from what she was doing. She seemed to be in the middle of cleaning the floor. "What?" she demanded.

"Have you been in this room?" Johnny asked, jabbing a finger in the direction of the room he'd exited.

The woman looked offended. "Of course I've been in there. I cleaned it this morning."

Johnny stared at her for a second, dumbfounded. "Well," he stammered, having a little trouble finding words due to a combination of shock and grogginess, "there's uh… there's someone in there." He pointed again.

The cleaning lady placed one hand on her hip and gave him a look. Her expression suggested she thought he was pulling her leg.

John scowled at her. "I'm telling you, there is someone in there!" he exclaimed impatiently.

"Right," the woman said, rolling her eyes. She put her cleaning supplies up against the wall, then moved to go and look in the room. Her body language suggested she was doing it to humor him more than anything else.

She walked in through the doorway and looked around a little, then quickly spotted the man lying on the bed. She froze, blinked a little bit, then stepped toward the bed and cleared her throat. "Um, sir." She waited for a moment, and when the man did not respond, she cleared her throat again and spoke more firmly, "Sir." Then she moved to the side of the bed and shook the man by the shoulder.

"I'd say he's dead," Johnny said from behind her, causing her to jump a little.

Now she looked at John over her shoulder, giving him a look that suggested she thought he had a brain the size of a pea. She then leaned over the motionless form on the bed, shaking him gently by the shoulders and then slapping him lightly on the cheek. "Sir, wake up!"

"Look, Ma'am, that's not gonna help him now," Johnny said warily, shaking his head a little. "He's… gone."

"I'm going to call someone to take a look at him, maybe someone should try CPR," the woman said, already moving toward the door.

Johnny shook his head. "I'm telling you, that's not gonna do any good!" he snapped. He then sighed in exasperation, stuffing his hands into his pockets as she turned to glare at him. "You didn't even clean this room, did you?" he added as an afterthought, gesturing around him. "I bet this is the first time you've been in here today."

She shot him a long, withering look, then turned on her heel and exited the room.

Johnny muttered something under his breath, then moved to follow her.


	2. Chapter 2

Johnny followed the maid as she walked toward the front desk. She seemed to ignore him entirely as she approached the receptionist, requesting that he call the manager, immediately. However, she did not mention anything about the deceased person found in the room, and this fact did not go unnoticed by Johnny.

"Don't you think your manager would want to know why he's coming down here?" John asked the cleaning lady as she moved a short distance away from the front desk.

The woman sighed irritably, brushing a lock of fiery red hair out of her face. During her cleaning, her upswept hairdo had become slightly undone. "When he gets here," she spoke in a clipped tone, not even looking at Gage, "I will explain the situation."

Gage just shook his head, placing his hands on his hips. He couldn't believe this situation at all. Didn't this woman even care that someone had died in one of the rooms? Didn't anyone even notice that whoever that man was, he'd failed to check out, or even leave the hotel? Either this hotel had a very incompetent staff, or something very strange was going on here.

What happened over the next couple of hours happened in a blur, although it left Johnny more confused and exasperated than ever.

The manager came and the cleaning lady simply showed him the room where they had seen the body. Only she made it sound like Johnny had been the one to make a big deal out of it, as if she hadn't really seen a thing. When she, Johnny and the manager went into the room to check it out, the body was gone. To make things even more bizarre, the bed looked neat and tidy, as if it had been freshly made that very morning. The sheets were stretched neatly over the mattress, and the blankets were straight and tidy, the pillows fluffed and resting on the head of the bed.

To make matters even worse, the cleaning lady made it sound as if Johnny had either made the entire thing up, or he was hallucinating or something. The manager simply shook his head, suggesting that perhaps John should simply get some sleep, or perhaps leave, because practical jokes of these kind were not welcome.

Johnny was offended. He insisted that he had seen a dead man in that very bed, because he had actually laid down on top of the body, and then checked it over. He also pointed out that, since he was a paramedic for the Los Angeles fire department, heavily implying that he knew something about this kind of thing.

Since the paramedic kept insisting that he knew what he saw, the manager reluctantly called the police. When the officer arrived he took a quick look around, but saw nothing unusual. Both the manager and the maid acted as if Johnny had made the whole thing up. Gage of course tried to defend himself and tell more about what he saw, but the officer cut him off with a warning, saying that there was obviously nothing wrong at the hotel, and if Johnny tried pulling another "prank" like this again he might get legal action taken against him.

Then of course the maid just had to make things even worse by suggesting that Johnny was on drugs. She even went on to say that he had "woken up screaming like a lunatic". The police officer then glanced Gage over, suggested he go see a doctor for whatever he was on, then left.

Flabbergasted, Johnny wasn't quite sure what to do at first. He knew what he had seen, then the hotel manager and cleaning lady made him out to be a liar and a fool, and now the local police apparently thought he was on drugs or something.

After that the manager actually told him, straight to his face, that even though he was behaving like a "public nuisance" he would be willing to let Johnny stay at the hotel for as long as he liked… for half price. Because he felt sorry for "hard luck cases".

"Just what are you saying? That I look like a bum to you?" Johnny asked at this point. He was becoming more and more irritable due to the strangeness of this situation, as well as lack of sleep. He'd survived on little sleep before, but he wasn't sure how much longer he would able to last on his feet.

"Look, sir," the manager said, taking Johnny aside. "Let's go to my office."

Once they arrived at the man's office, he closed the door and then gestured for Johnny to sit down. Then the manager himself sat down behind desk. "Look," he said slowly, "I don't know what you thought you saw in there. But you said yourself that you had been out driving all night, after a long shift at the fire station in Los Angeles, correct?"

Johnny nodded. "Well yeah, but—"

The manager continued, cutting him off. "So, it could be that you simply went in there, collapsed on the bed, and had a very vivid dream. It's been known to happen to people who are very fatigued."

"But," Johnny protested, "I remember getting off of the bed and checking the man over. Then I got the maid to come look at him, and she tried to wake him up. Then she went and told the receptionist to call you."

"According to her, you came out of your room yelling like a maniac," the manager said calmly but accusingly, pressing his fingertips together before him. He appeared thoughtful. "She said she peeked into the room but didn't see a thing, but called me because you were kicking up such a fuss."

Johnny was shaking his head, eyebrows furrowed and mouth agape. "That's not what happened," he stated.

"I know what you said happened. But are you sure you didn't take anything, or inhale anything, during your long drive?" The manager cast him a sideways glance, appearing concerned.

"I certainly did not!" Johnny huffed, offended. "Why, the only things I've touched during the road trip were water and pretzels. Except for when I stopped at a McDonalds about four hours ago."

"Junk food will do wonders on your brain, especially when you're tired," the manager said, in the patronizing tone of a know-it-all speaking to someone he felt was an imbecile. "Now look, I suggest you drop this entire matter before you make an even bigger fool out of yourself than you already have. If you wish to leave, you may check out any time. Otherwise, I suggest you go back to your room and get a few hours of sleep."

Soon after that, Johnny gave up. The man obviously wasn't going to budge, at by this point even Johnny himself was beginning to question what he had actually seen. Had he simply been dreaming? Was this merely a result of fatigue? Frankly, at this point, he couldn't weigh out any possibility whatsoever.

Finally the fireman decided that he would go back to the room he'd been given, if for no other reason than to look it over again. Once there he went inside and began to examine the room, yet he couldn't find a single thing out of place. The bed looked perfect, as if it hadn't been slept in for at least a day. There was no sign of death or distress in the room, at all. The carpet and what little furniture was in there looked perfectly tidy and untouched.

On impulse Johnny quickly checked the bathroom, but there was nothing unusual to be seen there either.

He then stepped out of the bathroom and looked around the room again, sweeping it over with his gaze. But the sight that his eyes were registering now simply did not match what his brain told him he had seen just a couple of hours ago. This made no sense whatsoever. There had been times when he'd had vivid dreams, but nothing like this before.

"There's gotta be an explanation," he murmured, then yawned in spite of himself. He had fought off sleep for the past two hours, but something told him he wasn't going to be able to fight it off much longer. Part of him tried to shove it away, not wanting to sleep in this room. Yet he couldn't deny that his eyelids were starting to grow heavy.

Finally, with great reluctance, he collapsed on top of the covers on the bed, sinking his head into the pillow. Nevertheless he left the lights on, and was perfectly content to sleep in his current outfit. He figured he would just get a little bit of sleep, and when he awoke he would investigate further.

Or perhaps he would dismiss it as a dream. Perhaps this entire thing was a dream and he'd actually fallen asleep in his car hours ago. Yeah… maybe that was it. Hopefully he hadn't crashed into something though, if that was the case. That would be all he needed, to wake up in a hospital bed soon, finding that a concussion was the result of his weird dream. If this was a dream.

It didn't take him long to dose off; the bed was quite comfortable, despite the horror he'd seen earlier. He had no idea how long he was asleep, but when he got awakened, he woke up very quickly.

The thing that awakened him was the feeling of pressure against the scruff of his neck, immediately followed by something yanking him up into a seated position. His eyes snapped open, and he found himself staring into a face that was all too familiar. It was the face of the dead man, only now he was standing on his own two feet, leaning over the bed and holding Johnny roughly by the back of the neck.

The man's eyes were wide and almost bloodshot, the skin of his face was pale like that of a corpse, and he was wheezing and rasping. He opened his mouth to reveal a set of crooked teeth, some of them chipped or half rotted. His breath hit Johnny's face like a putrid stench; he also wheezed and rasped a little, as if trying to speak but unable to.

It took Johnny a few seconds to get over his surprise, especially since he'd been woken out of a sound sleep. But when the eerie figure snarled and used his free hand to grab the paramedic roughly by the shoulder, Johnny yelled out.


	3. Chapter 3

After yelling out, Johnny reacted on his self-preservation instinct. He shoved at his attacker's chest, just firmly enough to push him away, and used his other hand to knock aside the arm that was touching him. Then in the very next second, Johnny rolled backwards to the other side of the bed and half rolled, half hopped onto the floor beside it. He landed somewhat awkwardly, but was able to quickly get repositioned on his feet, in sort of a crouched position.

Just then, the lights went out. Johnny tensed, ready to flee or defend himself—whichever he needed to do. But when his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found that he was alone in the room.

As the panic wore off and clearer thinking began to take over, Johnny's mind began to process what he was seeing now, compared to what he had seen mere seconds ago. He knew for certain that he had seen the "dead" man that had been found in his bed, although he was anything but dead. Johnny also remembered a putrid stench… not just of the man's breath, but there had also been the distinct smell of smoke.

But that did not explain how the man could be dead and then very much alive, or why he disappeared… or why the lights suddenly went out for that matter.

Just then, the lights flickered and then came back on. Johnny blinked. The room was completely empty, except for himself and the furniture.

Then there was a knock on the door. "Mr. Gage?" the familiar voice of the cleaning lady called out. "What's going on in there? Are you okay?"

It took Johnny a second to fully regain the use of his motor skills. Once he got to his feet however, he made his way to the door and opened it. Sure enough, there stood the cleaning lady. She looked more annoyed than concerned.

"What's going on, Mr. Gage? You were yelling like a wild Banshee in here," she stated firmly, "and it's disturbing our other guests." She made one of her patronizing "tsk-tsk" noises, then somehow managed to look at him as if she were a mother scolding a child—even though he was a couple feet taller than her. "Don't tell me you saw your 'corpse' again." She shook her head.

"Well I certainly saw something!" Johnny snapped, his temper truly starting to flare. "And I'll have you know I'm getting tired of the attitudes around here! I know I saw something in here before and you saw it too, then both you and the manager—and the police—act like it's all something I made up!" He was glaring at her now. "I think I deserve to know what in the world is going on here."

The woman sighed, as if she were dealing with a wayward three-year-old. "There was never anything here," she said slowly and calmly, "so we have to assume that it was all a dream. And since there is nothing here now, we have to assume that, again, it was all a dream. Now I think you should be quiet, and forget about this crazy notion of a corpse, or we are going to have to ask you to leave."

Johnny may not have found her little speech to be quite so infuriating if it weren't for the condescending, "two plus two equals four" demeanor she used as she spoke. Then again, being called a liar—or being accused of dreaming—was infuriating nonetheless.

"Look, how can you just stand there and deny you saw nothing earlier?" Johnny snapped, moving his hands in a gesture of exasperation. "I saw you touch the man and try to wake him."

"I cleaned this room before you even got here," the maid snipped, raising her voice to emphasize her speech. "There was never anyone else in here, and I only came in when you started making a big fuss. Then the manager, myself, and the police looked around and found nothing." She sighed heavily. "I'm getting so tired of going over this with you. If you keep having these recurring dreams, or if you're on something, I seriously think you should see a doctor."

Before Johnny could do more than open his mouth, the lady turned and left, shutting the door behind her. No one could accuse her of slamming it, but it did shut with a definite "snap" with some applied force.

Left along once again, Johnny simply stared at the closed door with his eyes narrowed and his mouth agape. In some ways, he was seriously starting to question his own sanity. Was it possible that, due to the stress of worrying about his friend and the fact that he'd been driving for hours right after finishing a work shift… maybe he was just seeing things, or having strange dreams?

No, it just couldn't be. In all his life he'd never had strange dreams like this before…

He couldn't just shake it off. Something very strange was going on, and he needed to get to the bottom of it one way or another.


	4. Chapter 4

John Gage had just about had it with this insane situation at the hotel. In fact, the way things were getting crazier and crazier, he felt that he would go insane if it lasted much longer.

It was late in the evening now, and he still couldn't get anyone to listen to him or take him seriously. He'd had very little sleep because he was too frightened to sleep in the room he'd been given. He'd ended up going out to his vehicle to sleep in the back seat, but he'd awoken to a terrible neck cramp, along with the sound of someone knocking on his window. However, when he got up and looked around outside, there was no one there.

By now he was completely ravenous, and only mildly refreshed from the sleep he'd managed to get in his car. He decided to brave going back into his room within the hotel one final time. Perhaps he could try and prove once and for all—at least to himself—whether or not he really had seen a walking corpse.

However nothing out of the ordinary happened for the rest of the night. Johnny ordered himself some room service, and got to eat a very delicious meal. Then he dozed off on the couch and slept solidly until the golden rays of sunlight shone through the windows, announcing the arrival of morning by shining in his eyes.

Johnny felt stiff as he slowly got up off the couch. He yawned loudly, his jaw cracking a little as his lungs expanded with air. Overall he felt refreshed, although he was still wary thanks to the events of the past day.

Just then he noticed something that startled him. There was a woman sitting in the chair across from the couch. She had long, wavy black hair that flowed down her back and shoulders and dark brown eyes. A pair of silvery earrings hung from her earlobes and she wore a shimmering gold, low-cut silky dress.

"Um," Johnny cleared his throat, and found himself sitting back down on the couch, too stunned to move. How in the world did this gorgeous woman get into his room? He was certain he'd locked the door before dozing off.

"Uh, hi," he said warily when he found his voice again. "Um, how did you get in here?"

"Well hello there," the woman said, in a partially cold voice, but with the hint of a monotone. "I used the door, dear...how do you think I got in here?"

"I thought I locked it," Johnny said, standing up. "Though maybe I didn't." Keeping a wary eye on her out of the corner of his vision, he went over and checked the door himself. It wasn't locked. Well, maybe he'd just been so out of it that he'd forgotten to lock it. "Okay I guess I didn't," he finally concluded out loud, with a nervous chuckle.

He then walked back over near her chair, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stood nearby. "So um… well… heh, you could have knocked, you know."

She shrugged at Johnny, looking up at him. "Well, I think its obvious we both do, or maybe even see, things out of the ordinary..." she slowly said. "You've had quite the eventful day or two, haven't you?"

Johnny's good-natured smile instantly vanished. He was instantly more alert. "What do you mean by that?" he asked in a serious tone.

The woman smirked, standing up. "Oh, I think we both know what has been going on here ever since you arrived, haven't we? Don't worry, Mr. Gage, for I know you are not crazy, like the outside world probably thinks..." she told him.

"I see you know my name," Johnny said slowly. He stayed exactly where he was, although something about this woman made him feel very uneasy. "May I ask what your name is?"

"Hmm, I suppose I could not deny you that. Eugenia. Eugenia Holmes." she told him, staring right back at the paramedic. "I know all about your little haunting adventure during your stay here. I am quite surprised you have not left yet."

Gage stared at her. "Well at least SOMEONE around here seems to acknowledge it happened," he snapped. "Do you want to tell me exactly what is going on? Are you behind this?"

Eugenia looked offended. "Well, you only just met me and you are accusing me of murdering that poor man that you found?" she asked, putting on a shocked tone. "Whose body, now, has strangely vanished..."

"Surely you're not accusing ME of something," Johnny snipped defensively.

"Oh, of course not..." Eugenia simply said, in a peaceful manner. "I mean...you are a paramedic. You save lives, not end them, correct? Though, I suppose some may think you did...since the man continues to haunt you in death..."

"What the hell are you talking about?" John demanded, lowering his eyebrows and narrowing his eyes.

"Well, Mr. Gage, I could have sworn that dead man had been haunting you ever since he disappeared...didn't he grab you as early as last night, after you saw him standing up? Maybe he faked his own death...who knows of the countless possibilities..." Eugenia slowly told him, chuckling slightly.

All of this was definitely getting weirder by the minute, not to mention creepier. "Okay," John said, holding up a hand, "there's something I want to ask you. How is it that apparently YOU know about this, but nobody else seems to? I mean, even the maid, who I saw TOUCH the dead man, acts like she doesn't even remember anything about it." Now that he finally had someone who seemed to know about what was going on—rather than thinking he was crazy or dreaming—he wanted to get as much information as possible, and quickly.

"Well, you see, I have to say that I am much smarter than most of the population and their idiotic beliefs," Eugenia told him, rolling her eyes at all of the people that opposed her. "I am a very wise woman, and so I was able to deduce everything easily...but what I am more curious about is how YOU saw the body, actually."

Johnny blinked. "Well all I know is that I saw something alright," he finally said, shaking his head slightly. "When I first came to this hotel, I found a dead man in that bed over there." He pointed in the direction of the bedroom. "I checked for a pulse, heartbeat, and I even noticed that he felt cold and clammy when I touched him. Trust me, he was DEAD.

"Then," the paramedic went on, "I got the cleaning lady in here to take a look. She touched him, even shook him, thinking he could wake him up. Then she called the manager, but when he came along, the corpse was gone, the bed is neat and tidy, and I'm left being treated like an idiot, as if I made up the entire thing!

"And then," he continued, "some time later, I see the corpse show up again. Obviously it's the same guy, but he's alive and kicking, and he grabs me roughly. I run from the room, and then suddenly he's gone again. And once again I'm left being treated like an idiot. I don't know anything else, Miss Holmes, but I would certainly like to know what's going on around here!" Johnny sounded quite aggravated by the end of his speech.

Eugenia nodded in acknowledgement. "Sounds like you have had quite the thrill ride, Mr. Gage...I know it must be quite horrible to keep having these strange events take place..." she slowly said. "I can tell they are getting to you...you might be freed from them if you simply...left this wretched place and never returned."

The paramedic stared at her in disbelief. "Well," he admitted, "I have thought about leaving here. I've even thought about demanding my money back after the way everyone's been treating me around here. But the truth is… I've been kind of hoping to get to the bottom of this. Now would you mind answering some of my questions, Miss. Holmes?"

Eugenia kept her composure, nodding. "I suppose there is no reason I shouldn't. And please, call me Eugenia." she told him.

Gage cleared his throat. "Well uh… Eugenia… how do you explain the maid touching the corpse and then denying she ever saw it? Does she know something about this?"

"Well, you see...people have such odd memories these days. The maid...I believe it simply faded from her mind. Perhaps there is more to it than meets the eye, but all of her memories of touching that body are just...gone. And they will never return." Eugenia explained to him.

Johnny felt a slight chill race down his spine. "What are you saying? Are you saying something made her forget?" His medical knowledge told him that there were ways that people could forget things. Certain kinds of drugs, trauma, hypnosis…

"Why yes...perhaps the murderer themself. As a psychic, I can tell you that the things going on here, such as that maid forgetting what she saw, are not the works of the typical conditions you know of." Eugenia answered.

Oh wonderful. So he was dealing with someone from the occult, or something like that. Great. He didn't really put much stock into that sort of thing, he simply knew that they could be… well, somewhat odd at times.

"Okay, is the man really dead?" he finally asked. "If so, who killed him?" The fact that Eugenia had said "themself" did not escape his notice. It was a way to carefully avoid indicating the killer's gender.

"Hmmmm...hmmm..." Eugenia slowly said, thinking everything through, trying to get a clear idea on this. "I do believe this man is truly dead, yes...and the killer's identity...I...I cannot get a good lock on that, I'm afraid...it seems the spirits down below do not wish us to know that information..."

"Spirits down below," Johnny echoed, skeptical. "Look, blame it on whatever you want, but the fact is that there's something fishy going on around here. And I'm not leaving until I find out what it is."

Eugenia was silent for a moment after hearing the man's last words. However, she soon spoke up again. "Well...have it as you may, but just know that if you stay here, these oddities might continue. I cannot guarantee your safety, Mr. Gage, because if you are not wanted here by our master...then good things might not come your way..."

Johnny scowled. "Is that a threat?"

Eugenia looked at him, almost seeming offended. "Why, of course not...I was simply stated possible consequences...but if you wish to stay, then so be it...and you can face whatever lies ahead..." she told him.

Gage moved swiftly over to the nearby end table, picking up the phone and putting it near his face. "Get out of here," he warned. "I don't care who you are or what you're doing. I want you out of here right now, or I'm going to call the police."

Eugenia continued to look shocked, putting her hands on her hips. "And what exactly am I doing to you, Mr. Gage? What are the police going to arrest me for? Simply making suggestions and stating facts?" she asked.

Johnny stared at her. Indeed, what could he say or accuse her of, especially since there was no evidence and no one was taking him seriously? Slowly, he put down the phone. "So," he finally said, "what happens if I leave here? Or, what happens if I decide to dig around here a little more to see what I can turn up?"

Eugenia's shocked look faded, and she went back to thinking, trying to predict the future for Johnny. "If you leave...then you will leave never knowing who murdered that man. You will go back to your old life, and this murder will never be found out. No one will know. If you stay, you may end up finding the murderer and deducing all of this...but you may end up paying for it severely." she told him.

Johnny scoffed. "And how exactly will I end up 'paying for it'?" he wanted to know.

Eugenia was silent once again for a moment. "The spirits...do not elaborate on that. They simply refuse." she said.

Shaking his head, Johnny simply said, "Okay look… I'm leaving. I don't believe any of this but I'm TIRED of all this stupid hocus-pocus, or whatever the hell is going on." He gestured around the room, then headed toward the door, pausing just in front of it. "I'm leaving," he said with emphasis, opening the door.

Eugenia nodded. "Perhaps it is...for the best indeed. I am afraid that the stakes are simply too dangerous if you stay, Mr. Gage..." she told him.

Johnny left the room, giving the door a very light slam behind him. He then headed down the hallway toward the front desk. Once there he asked the clerk, "Is there a private phone I can use?" He had no intention of leaving… yet.


End file.
